


warmth

by lynnpaper (27beansprouts)



Series: obikin ficlets [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I am procrastinating, M/M, No Smut, jedi are touch starved, obikin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27beansprouts/pseuds/lynnpaper
Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan spend a quiet afternoon together.or: a Very Self-Indulgent obikin ficlet because i WILL go down with this ship
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: obikin ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129010
Comments: 17
Kudos: 133





	warmth

**Author's Note:**

> playing with hair.... playing with hair........ Playing With Hair.............

They’re stretched out on the couch in Obi-Wan’s quarters, robes carelessly strewn onto the floor. Anakin’s head is on his chest, and he’s playing with Obi-Wan’s hands, his arms wrapped around Anakin's shoulders.

They've just returned from a diplomatic mission to some Mid Rim world, after successfully negotiating with the planet's leaders an agreement to stay under the protection of the Republic. Anakin had spent a few hours in the hangar bay tinkering with starfighters ("modifying," he insisted, "I'm improving them!") and Obi-Wan had shrugged and said "whatever makes them crash less."

Anakin had snuck in immediately after saying (or rather, lying through his teeth) to Ahsoka he’d be in his room writing mission reports for the rest of the day. She’d simply grinned, the sharp white marking in place of her eyebrow arching up, and said, “Alright, Skyguy. You write those _mission reports_.” 

He _never_ writes mission reports. 

She definitely suspected something, but frankly, Anakin didn’t care. He’d speed-walked down the corridor and keyed in the code for Obi-Wan’s quarters, where he found him — unsurprisingly — meditating.

Obi-Wan had taken one look at him, caught a whiff of engine grease, and very firmly told him to "get in the fresher before I kick you out." 

Now they’re here. Comfortably sprawled against each other. A whole day of free time, no beeping comms or snippy togrutas asking when they’re going to get a break. Anakin was hoping to get in some undressing action, maybe a makeout session — but unfortunately Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to be in the mood for anything more than cuddling.

Obi-Wan runs his fingers through his padawan’s unruly hair, untangling the rusty blond strands, still damp from his shower. 

“Ow,” Anakin mutters, as Obi-Wan yanks a little too hard on a stubborn curl.

“Sorry,” he replies. There’s laughter in his voice. He pulls Anakin closer to press his lips against Anakin’s hair, and the scent of the temple’s standard-issue soap tickles his nose.

Anakin sighs contentedly and tilts his head back. Obi-Wan traces a line down Anakin’s exposed neck, skimming his collarbone, mapping out the edge of his tunic. On any other occasion, he would be keen to untie his obi, slip the tabards off his shoulders, rid him of his tunic and kiss further down his chest, stomach, until Anakin is a squirming, gasping mess. He's almost tempted to to exactly that, seeing as Anakin is never one to turn down a good time and the temple is empty enough for them to make a little noise — 

But they have nowhere else to be today, so he’ll take his time.

Also, he’s tired.

Anakin is not so restrained, and he shifts in Obi-Wan’s arms until they’re face-to-face. He catches Obi-Wan’s lips in a kiss, hands coming up to cup his neck, moving leisurely down his torso. Lower, until he slips them under the hem of Obi-Wan's tunic, skimming the waistband of his pants, moving up to brush against his ribs. The leather of the glove covering his mech hand is warm, like velvet coated steel. 

Obi-Wan makes a small noise in the back of his throat and opens his mouth to say _not now, Anakin_ , but his padawan decides that’s an invitation to part his lips and roll his hips against Obi-Wan’s in a way which probably classifies as _obscene_.

 _This is nice_ , he thinks. Then he realises exactly where this is going to go if Anakin gets his way.

Obi-Wan gently — reluctantly — pushes Anakin off. He can sense his disappointment.

“Not now, Anakin,” he murmurs, but the boy dips his head again, lips grazing his neck in a way that sends shivers down his entire body. He shifts himself over Obi-Wan at an angle which allows him to grind against him. Obi-Wan has to bite his tongue to suppress a groan.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan manages through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, master,” Anakin breathes against his neck, and Obi-Wan knows he’s not really sorry at all. His hips still, but not before he nips at Obi-Wan’s earlobe once more for good measure.

“Off,” Obi-Wan grumbles gruffly but kindly, then rather unceremoniously shoves his padawan to the side. Anakin yelps and sticks a leg out before he falls off the couch.

“But it’s been so long,” he whines, and Obi-Wan snorts. It’s only been two days. 

Only been two days since Anakin had him straddled across his thighs, face flushed, pupils blown. 

Anakin meets his master’s soft gaze and gives him the kicked puppy look, which would be very convincing if he wasn’t just trying to get into his pants. Anakin’s usually happy to settle for some heavy petting, but Obi-Wan wants to savour the time they have today in a way that doesn’t involve him biting his lip to stop himself from moaning.

_Moaning his padawan's name._

The council would go ballistic if they knew what went on in this room at night.

“C’mere,” Obi-Wan sighs, and Anakin obliges, moving closer to tuck his head into the crook of Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan’s hands return to Anakin’s hair, and he runs his fingers through the soft strands, now less tangled than they were five minutes ago. 

Anakin kisses the hollow at the base of Obi-Wan’s throat. Again. And again. Obi-Wan exhales, the sensation of Anakin's lips on his skin sending sparks down his body. 

Anakin noses at his neck, dragging his lips over his pulse point. 

"Please?" 

"No."

Anakin closes his lips over the sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder and nips gently. Obi-Wan lets out a shuddering breath.

"Please?" 

"No, Anakin." Firmer this time. 

"Tonight?" He murmurs against Obi-Wan's skin. He feels Obi-Wan tense up beneath him.

"Tomorrow." Anakin grins as his master relents. 

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Okay. "

He's silent for a moment. Then—

"You _promise_ , promise?"

" _Yes_ , Anakin," Obi-Wan huffs. 

Anakin smiles, satisfied, and nuzzles into Obi-Wan's neck.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan whispers, so quietly as to be almost inaudible.

Warmth blooms in Anakin’s chest. 

“Sap,” he mumbles. _I love you too_ , he doesn’t say, but it’s there, clear as day on his side of the bond. 

They stay like this for a long while, limbs entwined, as the sounds of the city fade into white noise in the background. 

When they wake up to evening light filtering through the windows, Anakin’s hand is curled around the fabric of Obi-Wan’s tunic, his cheek pressed to his master’s chest. His heart beats strong. It’s a lovely sound.

**Author's Note:**

> god they're so......... cute
> 
> please yell at me in the comments!! loud inbox good
> 
> (or find me on tumblr as [lynnpaper](https://lynnpaper.tumblr.com/)!)


End file.
